


days of perfect tunes

by calmena



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: 2018 Summer Solstice Gift Exchange, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Multi, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmena/pseuds/calmena
Summary: "The hair is fine," Illya said grudgingly, his eyes continually darting from that to the mustache Napoleon had grown during the time they hadn't seen each other. "The beard looks like a dead animal."





	days of perfect tunes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [el_spirito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_spirito/gifts).



> For the prompt: "GUYS I just really want something where Napoleon, for whatever reason (undercover, midlife crisis, boredom, whatever) has Henry Cavill's current floppy, curly hair/mustache combo." I hope you like it! This isn't at all what I intended to write, but the last few months were... something, so fluffy domestic OT3 was the only thing I seemed to be able to write. And even so, this is more gen than anything else.
> 
> Title from Heartbeats by José González.

Napoleon fought to keep his face straight as Gaby just… stared. She'd fallen silent in the middle of a sentence when he'd walked through the door and she'd caught sight of him, and whether the reason for it was good or bad, Napoleon liked the attention. (Her expression was amusing. He suspected it was only self-control that had kept her mouth from falling open in shock.)

From where he was sitting, Illya wasn't able to see him, and Napoleon suppressed the smirk that hovered at the edges of his mouth when Illya made an inquisitive sound at Gaby's gobsmacked expression before he turned around in his seat to follow her gaze.  
  
Under any other circumstances, the look of abject horror and - yes, almost disgust - on Illya's face when he caught sight of Napoleon would have been insulting. As it was, Napoleon had to swallow down the laugh that was bubbling up in his throat and instead struck a theatrical pose for a second before he gave up on it and sidled closer to Gaby and Illya. He'd known that he'd miss them during the mission, he just hadn't known how much. Being back here with them felt... _right_.  
  
"I take it you don't approve?" he asked lightly, almost pointedly so as he planted himself next to Gaby on the couch, accepting it when she immediately put her feet into his lap.  
  
"The hair is fine," Illya said grudgingly, his eyes continually darting from that to the mustache Napoleon had grown during the time they hadn't seen each other. The skin between his eyebrows wrinkled as he frowned. "The beard looks like a dead animal."  
  
Gaby let out a bright peal of laughter, head thrown back. "That's very mean," she chided Illya, though there was an amused spark in her eye would have kept anyone from taking the words seriously. "You're not wrong though."  
  
Grabbing for Gaby's feet, Napoleon kept them hostage for a few seconds as he tickled them, causing high giggles to spill from Gaby's lips as she tried to twist them out of his grip. "Well, that's just painful," he said dramatically, sending a mischievous glance Illya's way as Gaby shrieked in laughter.  
  
The corners of his mouth pulled up, Illya was about as obvious about being amused as he ever got. His eyes were still riveted on Napoleon's hair, though they would sometimes catch on Gaby's wriggles as she tried to free herself from the tickling hands. Something about the looks he gave them was so very soft, and something in Napoleon's chest turned soft and warm in response.  
  
Gentling his grip, Napoleon let the tickling fade to something that was closer to a massage than anything else and smiled when Gaby settled immediately and made a content sound, melting into the couch.  
  
Really, one would think that being apart for a few weeks wouldn't be enough to miss those two half as much as he had, he mused, but it was. The truth was, Napoleon had gotten used to having Illya and Gaby around, and he couldn't find it in himself to regret it, not when he enjoyed their presence so much.  
  
Leaning back, Napoleon watched as Illya's eyes sharpened for a second before he leaned forward in his chair, reaching out towards his hair. It was with wry amusement that Napoleon tilted his head towards him when Illya hesitated before making contact, hand hovering in the air between them. "You can touch it," he said, more salaciously than the act really required, making his eyes as smoldering as he could just for Illya's reaction.  
  
Illya's embarrassed glare made it worth it when he lightly tugged at one of Napoleon's curls a second later, as if to reassure himself that it was actually Napoleon's hair and not a particularly convincing wig.  
  
He didn't feel as gracious when a second later, Gaby abruptly sat up and plucked at some of the hairs of his mustache, laughing delightedly when Napoleon made a pained sound and reflexively reached up to touch the spot. "It's actually real!" she exclaimed and collapsed backward in a heap of giggles, almost kneeing Napoleon's stomach in the same movement.  
  
Napoleon couldn't help but feel put out at the thought that she hadn't believed it until then, though her laughter and Illya's hidden grin took away any outrage he could have felt, and in the end, he couldn't resist chuckling along himself. Still, his touch to his mustached upper lip turned thoughtful, a mirthful idea taking hold.  
  
Well then, he hadn't actually intended to keep the mustache after the mission was over, but just for their reactions, he decided he'd be keeping it for a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY IT'S SO SHORT. For some reason, this thing gave me so many problems, and uni just didn't allow me to start a different prompt, time-wise. :'( I hope you forgive me, el_spirito!


End file.
